


Chaos, Strife, and Pain

by writeallnight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Whump, Feelings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nogitsune, Stiles whump, void!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25815223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeallnight/pseuds/writeallnight
Summary: The nogitsune is gone but the side effects linger. Stiles is having a difficult time letting himself heal, physically and emotionally. Stiles whump and feelings taking place after "The Divine Move."
Kudos: 91





	Chaos, Strife, and Pain

**Author's Note:**

> It is one of the great sadnesses of my life that I came to this fandom so late. I was thinking a lot about how Scott wouldn't let himself heal during "Frayed" and wondered if Stiles might experience something similar after the events of Season 3B. Thus, this fic was born. Takes place after the events of "The Divine Move."

He was vaguely aware of someone touching his forehead, the hand comforting and cool against his burning skin. But then it moved away and he remembered that he didn’t deserve love or comfort or anything ever again. He was a killer, a murderer. He’d murdered Allison. He’d murdered Aiden. His hands hadn’t done the work, but it was his fault they were dead. It was his fault they were gone and his friends would never be the same.

“Stiles, sweetie, come on, look at me.”

He blinked his eyes open to find Scott’s mom looking down at him. “Hey there. How are you feeling?”

Everything hurt, every breath, every movement was agony. It was like he was burning from the inside out and freezing to death at the same time. Why couldn’t the nogitsune have chosen someone with super strength or super healing? Stiles wasn’t super anything except super mortal. And apparently letting a demon inhabit your insides did some serious damage.

Things had gotten kind of hazy after everything ended at the high school. He had a vague recollection of his knees giving out yet again, and then Scott practically carrying him to the car. Somehow he must have ended up at home in his bed but try as he might he couldn’t remember how. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

“Stiles? Can you hear me?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah.” That single word took all the effort in the world.

“Are you in pain?”

He nodded. “How bad is it?” she asked as she took his pulse.

“I’m okay,” he managed.

He didn’t want her near him. Didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of him. They should all just leave him here to curl up and die alone like he deserved.

“Stiles I just want to help you.” She touched his face again and he felt tears fill his eyes because he hurt so badly and he desperately wanted her to make it better even though she couldn’t. “How bad is it?”

He closed his eyes and shivered, his words coming out as a whisper. “Everything hurts.”

She nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “I’m going to give you something that might help, all right?”

She wiped down his shoulder and pressed a needle into his flesh. It barely even registered. “You get some rest all right? Your dad’s right outside if you need him.”

She walked toward the door as he closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him away from all of this. He could hear her talking with his dad in the hall.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“I mean we’re not exactly dealing with reality here,” Melissa said. “But he’s in bad shape. He’s running a fever. It’s like he’s got an infection that his body can’t get rid of.”

“It’s been days. All he does is lie there. He barely eats and when he does everything comes back up again. Sometimes,” his dad paused, his voice thick, “sometimes it’s black. The nogitsune is gone. Shouldn’t he be getting better?”

“I wish I knew,” Melissa said. Stiles could hear the worry in her voice. “Noah if he gets worse, we have to take him to the hospital.”

“That’s going to raise a lot of questions I don’t think I have answers to.”

“We may not have a choice.”

“Yeah, all right. Whatever you think we need to do.” His dad’s voice caught in his throat.

“He’ll be all right,” Melissa said. “We’ll get him through this.”

“Thanks Melissa. I don’t know what I’ll do if…” His dad didn’t finish the sentence and there was a long pause before Melissa spoke again. “Call me if anything changes.”

It was the last thing he heard before he drifted away again.

When he woke next he was choking. He wrenched his body up and vomited into the garbage can beside his bed, black bile spewing from his lips as he gagged.

“Stiles!” His dad came charging into the room. “Breathe! Stiles come on!”

He retched until he felt like there couldn’t possibly be anything left inside him, including his organs. “I’m sorry,” he gasped when he could finally breathe again.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” his dad repeated as he patted him on the back. “Let me just get something to clean this up.”

“No, Dad.” Stiles caught his hand, tears in his eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

His dad sank down onto the edge of the bed. “Hey, you listen to me.That thing, whatever it was, it wasn’t you. You didn’t deserve this. None of you did,” he said fiercely. “You’re not responsible for this mess.”

But he was. He knew it. He’d let the nogitsune in. If he’d been stronger, if he’d been better, he could’ve stopped it. But he was weak and powerless and he’d let it destroy everything and everyone he loved. None of his dad’s words could take away what Stiles knew was the truth.

The next time he woke it was slowly. He felt a little better, more alive and less like some half dead thing left by the side of the road, his pain slowly ebbing away.

He knew that feeling.

He forced his eyes open and found Scott sitting by his bed. He’d trapped Stiles’ hand in his own and Stiles watched as darkness flowed out of his body and into his best friend. “Stop!” Stiles tried to jerk his hand away but Scott held on tightly.

“You’re sick,” he said, eyes full of worry. “You’re in a lot of pain. Let me help.”

“No.” Stiles continued to struggle, but he couldn’t make the werewolf release his grip. “Let go.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t help you!” Stiles yelled with surprising strength..

Scott let go, more from shock than anything else judging by the look on his face. Stiles stared up at him miserably. “You’re in pain too Scott,” he said, voice shrinking back to little more than an anguished whisper. “I caused it. And I can’t make it better. I don’t deserve anyone’s help. Allison’s gone. Aiden’s gone. Isaac left. And all those people at the hospital and my dad’s station are dead…You all should have just let the nogitsune have me.”

“Stiles that wasn’t you,” Scott said desperately.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? That’s like saying you’re not responsible for anything you do while you’re wolfing out. I let it in. I let it be in control.”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

“Aren’t you the one who says there’s always a choice?” Stiles said ruefully. “I made the wrong one Scott. Or you did. You should have killed me.”

“No!” Scott stood up so fast the chair he was sitting on went flying across the room, crashing loudly against the wall. “Saving you wasn’t the wrong choice. I don’t believe it. You’re…you’re Stiles. You’re my best friend.” His eyes turned hard. “So don’t sit there and tell me to regret saving you. Allison knew what she was doing. She knew what it might cost. We all did. And we did it for you Stiles.”

“Well you shouldn’t have.”

“Do you really not see how important you are to all of us? Stiles you’re the one with the plan. You’re the one that keeps us all going. You fought the nogitsune for weeks before you let it in. Nobody else could have done that.”

“You don’t know that,” Stiles said, angry tears coming to his eyes. “I can see what I did Scott. I remember all of it. I can feel it. I can…”

“You have to let it go Stiles. Do you hear me? You have to let it go and move on.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can—“

“Scott just leave. Please.” The pain was slowly creeping back in, no longer held at bay by the strength of his best friend’s hand. He wanted to drift. He wanted darkness to take him away forever.

“NO!”

Stiles jumped at the intensity of it. It wasn’t exactly a full strength howl, but it definitely got his attention. He felt something inside of him slip just a little, a small crack in the crushing grip of hopelessness and guilt that was eating him alive. It was the same kind of feeling he’d had when Scott had shoved his way inside his brain and broken the nogitsune’s hold on him.

He heard his dad’s feet pounding down the hall. “Everything okay in here?” the sheriff asked in alarm.

His eyes were wild with fear. Stiles swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re good Dad.”

His dad looked unconvinced. “Well I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything.”

He walked away slowly leaving Stiles alone with his friend once more. “Why?” Stiles asked in a cracked whisper. “Why can’t you leave me like this?”

“Because,” Scott said his face screwed up into a kind of grief Stiles had never seen before, “because you were here before everyone else. Before Allison, before Derek, before all of this. You where there the first time I had an asthma attack. You were there when my dad left. And when this whole thing started, when I got bitten, you were the one who helped me through it. That’s you Stiles. Not whatever thoughts some freak of nature put inside your head.”

He looked directly into Stiles’ eyes. “I’m not sure I can get through this without you. So please. _Please_. You have to fight.”

“Scott, I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Scott said, dropping to his knees by the bed and grabbing Stiles’ hand once more. “I know you can. You’re…you’re our anchor Stiles. We need you. All of us. You can’t give up now. Not after what we’ve all been through. Losing Allison…that might kill me.” Scott’s voice grew thick. “But losing you? Stiles, losing you would kill all of us. Please. Let me help you.”

Stiles thought of his dad’s haggard, worried face, of Melissa’s tender touch, of the way his friends had all searched for him, the things they’d sacrificed to bring him home. They’d bought his freedom with blood and pain and blind faith. He’d done so much damage, but was it possible that Scott was right? That maybe if he stopped trying to pull away, things might be okay again? That somewhere in all of this god awful horror, there could be forgiveness and hope?

Another shift and some of the heavy darkness that clouded his mind lifted just a little more. He could try. He owed them all that much. “Okay.”

Scott looked at him, his eyes red and wet. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Stiles sniffed and managed to push himself up into a more seated position.

“Good,” Scott said, relief filling the room. “That’s good.”

Stiles was emotionally drained but somehow that seemed good, like he was a little more human. His stomach gave a small growl, the first time he’d felt hungry in months. “You want to watch a movie and order a pizza?” he asked tentatively.

It seemed insane that they could go from talking about life and death to something as normal as hanging out in the living room. But one look at Scott’s face told him his friend was just as exhausted as he was. Pizza couldn’t fill the gaping hole the loss of Allison had left behind, but maybe it was a start. Scott nodded. “Sure.”

They sat on the couch together for hours, neither of them saying a word as movie after movie played on the screen. Every so often Scott would reach over and put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles would feel the pain ebb away. Each time he let go the pain returned, but a little duller than before.

That night, for the first time in months, Stiles slept peacefully without night terrors or panic dragging him awake. He wasn’t alone. He never had been.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these boys. With my whole heart. And I'm glad I've finally put this fic out into the universe. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
